


we could be something

by infinity1213



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:48:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinity1213/pseuds/infinity1213
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truthfully, you don't even consider Quinn a contender until you arrive at her dorm and she's standing in your favorite sweater and fuck if your chest doesn't get a little tighter, if your heart doesn't beat a little slower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we could be something

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own glee or the characters! Just borrowed. Hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> find me @ rilayamechanic.tumblr.com :) you can send me prompts.

The thing is you never expected to be in this predicament.

You always figured it would be you and Brittany to the end. The girl you loved and lost and loved again.

Then sometimes you think about Quinn in all her fucked up glory. The girl who you never quite loved and who never loved you back. Quinn who tries to domesticate herself with whatever eye candy who shows a little bit interest. You’re not jealous you tell yourself because to be jealous would to feel and to feel would to love and to love would be pointless. Still Quinn is Quinn and that means something where you come from.

Truthfully, you don't even consider Quinn a contender until you arrive at her dorm and she's standing in your favorite sweater and fuck if your chest doesn't get a little tighter, if your heart doesn't beat a little slower.

When you get a call back from the audition that you really, really, really wanted she's the first person you tell. Or when you need a date for one of your cousin’s weddings its Quinn, who becomes your plus one, and when you’re Mami gives you a knowing look you'll pretend you don't know why, except you'll smile a little wider when Quinn catches the bouquet.

Quinn's the type of girl who quotes Camus at two in the morning and wears stupid sundresses all the time. The girl who catches pneumonia because she can't help but dance in the rain. She's the girl who can sneak into Coachella with her perfect blonde hair and smirk of the devil.

Sometimes you wonder how you missed it. How you missed Quinn.

The girl who was never quite yours but somehow always was. All of the moments that define you as a person has Quinn in there some way.

She became your first best friend when you moved to the richer side of Lima.

Or when you had to tell someone you thought you liked girls it was Quinn who you told in the basement of your house, you guys were only twelve, and she let you kiss her to make sure. Thus marking the event of your first kiss.

She was the only person who could get you to talk after your brother died in a car crash, he was going on a road trip after graduation and his car was hit by a drunk driver.

Before you told Brittany you were in love with her, it was Quinn you told first, as if to make sure that's what you really felt. In some weird way you realize you were looking for Quinn's approval.

Quinn stops talking to you around the third time you get back with Brittany. You and Brittany rented a little studio apartment that has more closet space then actual room. You guys don't have to worry about pestering roommates or anybody being late with the rent for the third time in a row. It's nice enough to be considered quaint and it's close to both of your jobs and overall its perfect-- except it's not.

Because when you dream at night you remember Quinn's flesh molded with your own, you remember the taste of her, the way she came on your fingers. But most all you remember her kisses. The way they seemed to burn you from the inside out.

So the silence from Quinn helps, it helps a lot.

Except you totally scroll through Quinn's hipster blog and you might check out her Instagram every now and then. Maybe you hack into Rachel's Facebook page to see if they're talking but that's only because you heard Quinn had a new beau and you had to find out his name somehow. It's just-- you feel like Quinn's ex and not her best friend.

That's what shakes you up the most.

You end up meeting Quinn's beau at a dinner party Rachel throws the couple weeks later. He calls himself 'Bob' and it feels like the biggest joke in the world. Who calls them self Bob? When it could be Bobby. Quinn elbows you in the shoulder, but you see the same laugh threaten to break on her face. Everybody looks at you both weird, but you’re just happy that you and Quinn still share something.

Sitting at dinner is a torturous affair. Everybody's so mesmerized by Bob, he can sing and dance, to Rachel and Brittany's delight, he likes to act, which makes Blaine light up, and you can totally tell Kurt has a boy crush on him. He's going to school to become a lawyer, but would love to do something creative with his life. His parents are rich and he has two little sisters, who you find out, absolutely adore Quinn.

Basically Quinn has found her match, he's polite but knows how to have fun. He won't look at Quinn crazy when she talks about some Russian novel she's reading, he'll hold back Quinn's hair when she has a little too much to drink, he's the one and you absolutely hate him.

"How's work going Santana?" Bob politely asks, he's been trying to start a conversation all night with you. He's trying to win you over, but you won't let him. Quinn gives you a nod to answer, and you try not to notice the exasperation on her face. Surprisingly you've been nice all night or you should say quiet. You didn't comment on his clothes or his weird laugh that you know Quinn probably finds endearing.

Instead you've stuck with yourself and listened to all the conversations around you. "It's good," You catch Quinn's eyes, you hate when she's disappointed, so you continue. "I think I'm getting a promotion." Rachel beams proudly, and everybody's showering their congratulations. But it's Quinn, who you can't keep your eyes off. "We should celebrate." Rachel insists.

She comes out with a bottle of Red wine and a bunch of glasses, the whole group gets decidedly drunk. It makes the night much more bearable, especially when you see Bob twirl Quinn happily.

Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine are passed out on the couch snuggling up with each other. 

The four of you pass out on Rachel's floor. Brittany and Bob on the outside of you and Quinn. You wake up sometime in the middle of the night cuddling with Brittany and you’re acutely aware that Quinn is next to you. Maybe it's the fact that your right hand is currently holding onto Quinn left one. You turn over and detach from Brittany to get more comfortable and hear some rustling beside you, Quinn does the same.

"Hi." Quinn breathes out, her arm automatically goes to your waist and you give her more room to cuddle into you. "What do you think?" She whispers, careful not to wake the other inhabitants. You don't miss her glance at Bob fondly.

"He's nice." Quinn smirks, "Nice? What have you done with my Santana?" You shrug again, but she continues. "San, really what’s up? You haven't made fun of him once and you've been polite all night." Quinn's laughing now and all you want to do is to slap her to make her stop. To make her understand that you’re trying, that you’re fucking trying. You know your place in this world, and it's definitely not by Quinn's side.

"What do you want me to say?" you whisper harshly, "That he talks like he's on helium constantly, have his balls even dropped? He looks like the little brother of the biggest douche Seth McFarlane, or the fact that he calls himself, Bob like he's a 60 year old grandpa, instead of a twenty year old kid?"

Quinn smirks, "At least you’re finally being honest."

"Whatever." The silence is palpable now. Quinn is being insufferable and happy, while you’re miserable and lonely. "Do you uh," Quinn pauses, staring at you intently, "Do you really think he's nice?"

There's no devilish laugh this time. You know what she's really asking, she's asking if you approve. If this guy passes all of the silent test you have for him.

"Yeah I do." She nods and you notice she's a little sad. She's looking at Brittany now the way you look at Bob. There's animosity and sadness, but resignation too. She goes to peck you on the cheek, faltering a little at your lips, she turns away before you can close the distance.

After that you don't hear from Quinn that much. You guys will exchange a few phone calls and texts, but communication is kept to a minimal, you’re both occupied and it doesn't feel right, it feels like cheating.

Months later you and Brittany break up, she thinks you work too much and she fails to mention she met someone at the dance studio. You find out she got hitched two weeks after you guys broke up, it feels worse than the fake wedding she shared with Sam.

It puts a strain on your relationship with Britt but at the end of the day you know Britt would never do anything to hurt you, it was just where her heart took her. You both were more in love with the memories than each other.

Becoming a publicist is your life, and it really doesn't leave time to date or form long lasting relationships. You like working and you’re surprisingly good at it. What doesn't feel good is the fact that all your friends are either married or in long lasting relationships while you've been the single one of the group for over a year.

Its Rachel’s suggestion, and you could've killed her. She wants you to join a dating app as if you were no good at picking up chicks. You could see the perks of it, if anything it's makes everything more accessible. You wouldn't have to worry about finding time to date, instead you could focus on work and get your friends off your back. The fact that you actually meet a couple girls with substance keeps you interested.

You’re on the said app when your sliding past girls profile pics, and 'Oh my god' you can't believe it, no fucking way.

Quinn is on your screen and you like her pic to get to her profile, and nope this isn't a catfish.

This actual Quinn with her likes of Bacon and fucking Fleetwood Mac and dislikes of anything with a Mohawk. You let out a bark of a laugh when you see that. Should you type her a message? You guys are kind of rocky right now. Instinct takes over. 

To QuinnF: Can't say I'm surprised Fabgay.

You don't have to wait long for a reply.

To Santana13: Shut up. I think you forgot how to spell Satan.

Santana gets a call two minutes later. "Wanna go on a date?" Quinn asks, you’re actually pretty shocked at how forward Quinn is being. You hold your phone tight to your ear, glancing at the clock, you notice its 5 minutes until your lunch break is over. Maybe it's time to be forward too. "Yeah." Quinn lets a sigh of relief. "I'll text you the details." you nod, but then realize you haven't actually agreed, "Ok, cool." You both are about to say goodbye when you realize something. "Wait! What happened to Bob?" you ask with disgust, you’re met with twinkling laughter. "He was nice."

So maybe you never thought you would end up with Quinn, maybe in some ways it's twisty and doesn't make sense, judging from the reactions of your friends who find out you guys are dating. They don't get it and to be honest, sometimes you don't. But then you see her smirk or when she traces quotes all over your body or the fact that she makes breakfast for dinner because she considers it a privilege that shouldn't be thrown away. She's fucking Quinn and it makes perfect sense. She your Quinn and your her Santana.

So fuck first love because you're totally ecstatic with your second and damn anybody who doesn't understand.


End file.
